


Not Pretty

by RavenclawProngs



Series: Enticing Contrast [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenclawProngs/pseuds/RavenclawProngs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost was not pretty.  Not at all.</p>
<p>And yet, he's strangely compelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Pretty

Jack Frost was not pretty. Aster didn’t even try not to roll his eyes whenever Tooth gushed about his teeth. Yes, they _were_ nice and white and even, but they were also far too short in front, and those canines were simply unnerving. There was no reason at all to want to run ones tongue over them and trace their smooth ridges.

 

His ears were too short and they couldn’t move independently. Jack couldn’t even wiggle them like some humans were able and he’d laughed at Bunnymund when he’d mentioned it, like that wasn’t a huge loss in non-verbal communication. No friend could recognize his feelings at a glance; no lover could run tender fingers along their sensitive insides and reduce him to helpless gasps. He was even unlucky enough to not have hair growing out of them and they were so pale and thin as to be translucent, like the rest of his skin; truly, if he weren’t an elemental and mostly immune to outside temperatures he’d freeze in his own season.

 

What hair he _did_ have wasn’t so bad, nice and white and soft-looking, there was just so _little_ of it. Barely even a good handful, enough to ruffle but not enough for a good petting. At least he had prominent eyebrows to contrast with the rest of his meager patch of hair, even if they were always twisting into irritating expressions with his too-small smirky mouth. Not even a proper muzzle on the boy and no whiskers at all.

 

Jack had a small, pointy nose that he couldn’t seem to keep out of trouble. He could wrinkle it, and often did, especially when he was laughing himself sick, but it didn’t twitch and it wasn’t flat enough. He didn’t even have a heightened sense of smell like some spirits got, though that wasn’t surprising for a wintery being.

 

He did have beautiful eyes, a nice clear blue like an Alpine lake; they would be gorgeous clouded over with pleasure or burning hot with desire, but they were too close together.

 

His feet were slim and fragile, with nowhere near the power needed for proper jumping or running, ending in thin, flimsy nails completely unsuited for digging or fighting. He had too many fingers and they were too delicate besides. There could never be enough power in those digits to grip a lover tight enough in the midst of passion and they’d only get tangled in someone’s fur.

 

He didn’t even have a _tail;_ he could never signal danger without one, so there really was no reason to stare at his ass. Not that he had much of one to speak of, scarcely a handful really, though firm and muscular like the rest of him. He was a slight thing, far too skinny and with whipcord muscles like a greyhound. Absolutely revolting, really, and he couldn’t even run on all fours to make up for it. Such slender limbs would be useless wrapped around a mate’s hips; they’d never have enough stamina.

 

Jack might have been tall for the time he was born, but even among humans he was a bit on the short side now. Among Pookas he was so short as to be undersized. Combined with his sight build, he’d never have been considered sturdy enough to protect a mate, let alone a warren.

 

He truly shouldn’t be attractive. He was such a strange and alien creature, not at all like a Pooka. Aster closed his eyes against the shear absurdity of it. And then Jack laughed, low and rich as he started telling a story to Sandy and Tooth, the cadence of his voice rising and falling. His voice washed over Aster, happy and content and so much warmer than his element’s magic, closer to Aster’s own, coiling into the Pooka’s belly like heady smoke. Opening his eyes again, Jack catches his eye and beckons him over to join the story-circle and Aster finds himself helplessly drawn in.

 

No, Jack Frost is not pretty at all. But somehow, for all his strangeness and humanity, he’s still very compelling.

**Author's Note:**

> So the first thing I managed to post to this archive (or any archive) is one-sided pining between an aeons-old alien rabbit and a 300+ year-old perma-teen elemental spirit. I should be ashamed of myself, but I'm really not.


End file.
